


Where the Love Light Gleams

by sweetnuisance



Series: Christmas Eve Will Find Me, Where the Love Light Gleams [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Charming Family (Once Upon a Time), Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28335651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetnuisance/pseuds/sweetnuisance
Summary: Regina receives a delivery on Christmas Eve
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Series: Christmas Eve Will Find Me, Where the Love Light Gleams [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078979
Comments: 9
Kudos: 60





	Where the Love Light Gleams

**Author's Note:**

> My progress on the final chapter of For The World We Know Can Be was interrupted by my impulsive idea to write my friends stories for Christmas, mostly because we're a bit scattered and it would mean I wouldn't have to try to fit presents in the post. Three of the requests fell into fandom and those friends have generously said they would be happy to share their presents with anyone who might want to read them here.

Regina stepped from the kitchen into the dining room, knocking the light switch off with her elbow as she passed and then laying her plate down beside the already prepared glass of wine. The table was set for one of course, just as it was every night. 

They, Snow and her little band of do-gooders, had oh so generously allowed Regina to stay in the Mayor’s mansion though she hadn’t set foot in the office that accompanied the position since Emma Swan had broken her magic hold over the town. While Regina was free to come and go as she pleased she mostly remained in the house and its grounds. When she found the house itself to be too large and empty she tended to her garden, though as it was mid-winter she could hardly loose herself in cultivating the roses or tending her apple trees.

Even in her self-imposed exile Regina refused to let appearances slip. More often than not her heels remained in their neat rows in her closet but every morning she forced herself to sit in front of the mirror to fix her hair and makeup. Then she dressed in whatever sharp lined pants or skirt she had laid across the end of the bed in preparation, paired with one of her exquisite silk shirts. Fairy tale knights rode into battle in steel plate armour; Regina faced her foes in armour of a different sort but hoped it would do as much to protect her. 

Regina sat for a moment at the table with the dimmer of the elaborately flared light fitting above set low to allow the black candle in the middle of the table in its thinly woven gold holder to illuminate most of the room. Through the archway separating the space from the living room Regina could see the fireplace roaring with a deep orange glow and the sparkling points of light bouncing off the walls from the Christmas tree hidden just beyond her line of sight. 

Abruptly Regina stood and snapped the dining room lights to full brightness, moving to do the same with those in the kitchen. 

This morning in what now seemed like a daze she had put out the Christmas decorations, holding back not a single one of the bright, exuberant tinsels and baubles. There was only one box of precious items she could not face opening. Remaining snuggly tuckered away was a snowman made from cotton balls and a toilet roll, a picture of a tiny handprint in paint shaped and decorated with glitter to look like a Christmas tree and a multi-coloured paper chain of irregular shapes meant to be snowflakes. 

Regina had even ventured out of the house to get a tree from Marco’s usual stall in the town square. The carpenter hadn’t refused her custom, he had even delivered her choice of tree to her door before nightfall as he always had before but this time the routine had conducted with a veneer of politeness plastered over a simmering sour hate. It was how they all treated her now, but Regina supposed it wasn’t all that far from the distance she had maintained from the rest of the town herself before the curse broke. You reap what you sow, and Regina should have realised that Queens who have salted the earth at their feet should expect nothing sweet in return.

There were no presents beneath the tree this year. Regina had wrapped only one gift and that task alone had taken a large glass of Cabernet Sauvignon to get through. It had taken yet another glass before she could bring herself to leave the house to seek out Snow White and ask her to deliver it. In doing so Regina had surprised herself with the realisation that she would rather face her once-step-daughter and all their history than ask Emma to pass a gift on to Henry for her. 

There had been no Christmas in the Enchanted Forest but they’d had Winter Solstice. The lights and the rich food and the festive gatherings of friends and family were not all that different. The holiday was about bringing warmth to the darkest and coldest time of the year by coming together. For people to remind themselves and each other that soon spring would come again, with its light and greenery, new life and hope. At least that was how most chose to celebrate it; it wasn’t quite so with her mother. In fact Cora’s customary Solstice felt decidedly too similar to Regina’s Christmas this year, all glittering fakery with no real warmth. 

There had been one year though, without Mother, where Regina thought she touched on what everyone else seemed to feel during the holiday, what she gleaned from the folk songs and festive stories or overheard of the servants’ family traditions. Regina could close her eyes now and still see little Snow handing her a small wooden bird. Someone had helped her to carve it of course, Leopold would hardly allow his precious daughter loose on a block of wood with a knife blade. But the girl had quietly whispered to Regina that she had painted it all by herself. 

The young Princess was typically bold; the Evil Queen in her wanted to call it impertinence and arrogance but if Regina thought back on it more charitably Snow was merely self-assured and fearless in a way Regina had never dared to be herself. But when Snow handed Regina that gift the girl was uncharacteristically shy, almost afraid. Regina recognised the cautious offering and thought she must had a similar look on the occasions she had reached out to her own mother, desperately hoping she would be praised for doing something right.

That small moment, thanking Snow and watching her soon to be step-daughter’s face glow with happiness and relief, Regina had felt a warmth she hadn’t known before. If she were honest with herself that memory was a high she had often chased with Henry, one she had found many Christmas mornings when he bounced eagerly onto her bed before racing down the stairs and cheering with glee as he tore into wrapping paper with abandon.

Regina looked to the tree, the bare space beneath it and the icy lights flashing among the branches. 

Tomorrow she would take it down she decided. 

A knock at her door interrupted her meandering thoughts; not the bell but a fist hammering on the wood. Determined to give whoever it was a piece of her mind Regina strode to the entrance hall. When she pulled the door open it felt as though she had rushed head first into a frozen wall as the night air hit her. There hadn’t been a snowfall yet but the lawn was frosted and sparkling with ice crystals, waiting to be covered with a white blanket. 

Regina immediately feared the worst when she found Emma Swan on her doorstep. Storybrooke’s Saviour had not spoken to her since the morning she came to collect some of Henry’s things from the house and those words had been cursory at best. Emma’s face was red from cold and there was no sign of her ugly yellow car at the curb so Regina assumed the other woman had walked here. Even if Emma hadn’t driven over in a rushed panic it did not mean the other woman hadn’t come with dire tidings. Regina’s heart clenched and she imagined this must be what it felt like when she reached her hand into someone’s chest and clenched her fist around their beating heart.  
“Is Henry okay?”

Infuriatingly Emma simply looked confused, as though a friendly late night visit was a perfectly usual thing between them and she could not fathom why Regina might be concerned for her son. Their son. 

“He’s fine,” she finally answered.

Why must all the Charmings be so damn exhausting Regina thought not for the first time.

She folded her arms across herself, the gesture fending off both the cold and the uncomfortable feeling that her chosen armour was doing nothing to protect her from Emma. The posture also prevented her from acting on the almost overwhelming impulse to shake some sense into the Saviour.

“Then shouldn’t you be at home. With your family.”

Regina hoped she would sound dismissive. Regal. Commanding. Instead she hated the dripping resentment and regret she could hear in her own voice. She only hoped the Sheriff was too dense to notice. 

“I…” Emma started but then said nothing else so Regina arched an eyebrow to prompt more. Emma lifted her arms instead. 

“This is for you,” Emma said and after a moment Regina looked down at what the other woman was offering her.

Held in her hands was a perfectly wrapped little box. Regina’s mind flashed back to the last thing she had offered Emma, a peace offering that in reality had been no such thing. Regina wasn’t sure if it was trust exactly but she felt sure Emma wouldn’t try her own tricks, at least not at this moment.

“Snow…” Regina had been reaching forward with her fingertips almost brushing the wrapping paper, the glitter on its surface catching the light from behind her, but she stopped at that one word. 

She should turn around right now and slam the door in Emma’s face. But she had opened herself up to this by going to Snow first so instead Regina took a breath of sharp cold air and accepted the gift. 

The bow stuck on top was the same shade of blue as that painted wooden bird she had received long ago. Regina took a moment to glare at Emma before looking down to the gift’s tag, its string caught under the press on bow. The hand writing was still as neat and meticulous as she remembered, the mark of an education from the very best tutors. The words were familiar too and they caused a long forgotten warmth to rise in Regina’s stomach, catching in her throat and tingling through to her fingertips. 

“To Regina. Love from your Family.”

At the last minute Regina caught herself smiling at the memory of that little girl who had never been hers, and never been her. At all of the possibilities that the gift and the message offered. ‘Your family’. 

Only for a second, and then Regina tamed her features. 

“Thank you Miss Swan.” 

Reluctant to go back inside Regina instead waited on the step, watching Emma take a couple of steps backwards before turning to face the street. Regina’s shadow fell over Emma and yet the other woman wasn’t swallowed by its darkness, her blonde hair still shining in the same way light catches on frost. Suddenly Regina felt the urge to say something to stop Emma going but she had never known the magic words that stop people from leaving you, despite all the spell books she had scoured. 

Regina blinked and in that moment Emma had turned around was surging toward her. Another moment, a sharp inhaled breath, and Emma’s lips met her own. Regina didn’t understand exactly what had happened but she was absolutely certain that she did not want it to stop. The glowing warmth she felt was burning now and she was sure she would never feel cold again. 

When it felt like Emma might be leaning back, pulling away from her, Regina pressed forward and her hand reached into the loose mane of hair at the nape of Emma’s neck. Her fingers grasped desperately to the thick stands and held tight, not willing to let the other woman go. 

Regina’s eyes were closed, screwed tight as though trying to hold on to a dream when waking up but even through the lids she could see the dancing sparks of purple-gold magic in the slight space between the two of them. 

When Emma tried to back away the second time Regina allowed it, her grip relaxed and her hand slipped down Emma’s neck, tracing below her ear then following the line of the coat’s fur collar. When Regina realised her palm had come to rest on Emma’s collarbone she pulled it back and a remaining crackle of the magic between them sparked as they finally broke contact.

Emma made a slight ‘huh’ sound in her throat then the words bubbled up from her, “Magic works differently here, right?” 

And there was that maddening little smirk and the tilt of her head that had always set Regina’s pulse racing. Only now Regina was not entirely sure that it was the mildly contained annoyance and displeasure she had always believed it to be. 

Regina didn’t trust herself now to say anything in response and instead the two women nodded their good-byes as though they hadn’t just been making out like horny teenagers on the front step. Emma was no doubt thrilled she had gotten in the last word.

Regina spun on her heel, turning her back on the Saviour to return inside. When she closed the door behind her she leaned her back against it, clutching the little parcel with both hands and holding it close to her chest and listened for the sound of Emma’s boots crunching away down the gritted path. 

Silence fell over Regina again but now the house did not seem as cold and vast. Walking back through to the living room she turned off the hallway and dining room lights, the half-eaten meal forgotten on the table. Reaching down she carefully placed the present beneath the tree before retreating to the couch and pulling the heavy knit blanket that was slung over the arm across her feet and lap as she curled into the corner. The fire continued to burn orange-red, its warmth filling the room and its light softening the sharp white bulbs strung around the tree. It no longer looked falsely cheery and out of place with her misery, not with the gift wrapped promise nestled beneath its wide branches. Perhaps she would keep it up after all.


End file.
